The Perceptions of a Snowflake as it Falls to Earth

I felt strange in my murky confines , aware of a difference between myself and the rippling confines around me. A loosening, and a soft release--what is happening? I panic, aware of my descent, but uncomprehending of my surroundings. My mind spun as I twirled and swirled with a dizzying unaccoustomness. I discerned, vaguely (for I was still vastly out of control), a multitude of delicate, clear chrystal droplets which spun in equal disarray and confusion. My mind closed in on these sparkling beauties, rendered speechless and stunned; what were they? Absolute perfection? Never had I encountered such singular bellezza, such delicate splendour amidst timid opulence. How was this natural fragility obtained? I envied it beyond my mind's comprehension. Why was this spectacle available to those joyous flakes of divine purity, and not to myself? From where did such wonder birth? My spinning slowed and I watched my drifting companions with unmasked jealousy. It wasn't fair; it would never be fair. I felt a renewed gust of western wind and with it dismay at the new frenzied tumult as my very limbs quivered at teh accute harassment of my very fibers. Apparently I had landed, and in a thick blanket of celestial shimmer, the frightening movement had ceased. Then it hit me--I was one of them. I belonged. This was impromptu upon reading a letter my friend wrote, in which she posed and answered her own prompt. This is my answer.

Me Being Even More Sentimental. Dang It, I See A Pattern

Some womanish prose of which I'm ashamed of--while it might be well-written, I don't like being weak. However, I told a friend he'd see what I didn't like. Here it is.

I wish time would bend, and fly back to now, years from today. We would meet in the rain again, you would whisper life in my ear again, and sing praises to the wind again; whilst you caress my skin beneath the forsaken midnight willow. We would dance on the hands of the clock , over frost and flame before we crash in the shades of nostalgia. And I would nestle softly in your safe arms again, set sail upon the mist again, bestow a soft kiss and sweet glances again. Would it be as just and pure? Still true? A binding oath would escape our lips again, and find it's mastry again, beneath our petalled sheets. Innocence is lovely--sentimental and darling--but curiosity is embolding, daring, persuasive. And deadly. The results are the forbiding of such unholy repetition, and in thus, unendurable sorrow. Next along the bitter path--that acrid, moaning path!--is the final token: Death.

Black Butterfly: The Soul's Lament (A moment of teen angst for which I must be forgiven)

I sat down beside her Waited; a sound, a stir, a sign Anything. The Black Butterfly took her ruby ring and sang 'The only way to go is after the fireflies: Weaving within the husky threads of forsaken willow hair In a clearing by the river, Sweet river.' The Black Butterfly held her tainted heart and whispered 'When lilies fade, all is lost And golden dew will never guise the fragrance gone Beneath a silken air, Virgin air.' River rose, I cried While she cherished the wind and made it scream 'Goodnight sweet song, Goodbye.' Sky sank she waited; Watched me praise Demeter in the lavender evening shadow Never knowing, I was vulnerable And she knew When she grasped me, an icy hand, And could not let go. Did she know-- Did she know her soul Could never stand it? Well...that was...stupid. Oh well, I still can't help but like it.

Identifying with Caroline Helstone

Any fan of Charlotte Bronte knows that Shirley is a novel not only about the character for which it is named, but also for Caroline, who, in unusually calm dispair, says the famous line "Half a century of existence may lie before me. How am I to occupy it?" Looking at the text surrounding this statement, I have grown to truly appreciate Caroline and her situation. This text is what follows Caroline's dispairing words:

"I have to live, perhaps, till seventy years. As far as I know, I have good health: half a century of existence may lie before me. How am I to occupy it? What am I to do to fill the intercal of time which spreads between me and the grave?"
She reflected.
"I shall not be married, it appears," she continued. "I suppose, as robert does not care for me, I shall never have a husband to love, nor little children to take care of. Till lately I had rechoned securely on the duties and affections of wife and mother to occupy my existence. I considered, somehow, as a matter of course, that I was growing up to the ordinary destiny, and never troubled myself to seek any other; but now, I perceive plainly, I may have been mistaken. Probably I shall be an old maid. I shall live to see Robert married to some one else, some rich lady: I shall never marry. What was I created for, I wonder? Where is my place in the world?"

Caroline is my favorite charater in this book, and I would love Robert Moore, if he would love her. I feel that many women today can identify with Caroline's predicament, and feel as though no one may comprehend their loneliness and pain. Yet, it was understood over 150 years ago by Miss Bronte! And what made me hopeful was when I learned that Charlotte Bronte was married within the last year of her life. Some may say this is horrible, having only one year being loved, then disappearing, but I take the opposite view: if a person lives in misery and discontent all their life, then finds happiness--wouldn't it be an all consuming joy which would suffice for their entire existence? To be loved at all, truly and simply, is a beautiful way to finish existence. Charlotte Bronte could have died with total and complete happiness in her heart--who could ask for more?

The Waiter: Finalish Draft (the one I have to turn in for a grade, anyway)

I added a scene, then took it out again. Hee hee, oh well. I just made some minor adjustments, mostly grammatical.

"I don't come here often."
I nodded, twirling my fork in the soupy wreckage otherwise known as tortellini. It really didn't matter. I knew he was excusing his poor taste in restaurants, but that wasn't the problem. There was no real problem. Except for me.
He glanced down at his soggy fettuccini alfredo and exhaled a meager sigh. "I'll drive you home."
I shook my head, fiddling with my unused spoon. "No thanks." One cold spoon.
He raised a sparse eyebrow. "It's a long walk."
"I don't mind it." I really didn't. I never mind walking.
He gave a resigned shrug. "See you."
"Yeah." I nodded and looked up into his face. He was one of those people who looked perpetually tired. His brown, practically gray hair was lank and his eyes gave off a faint glimmer, like a light bulb at the end of a long, dank sewer. "See you."
I heard the bells on the door jingle as he left. I grabbed a few sugar supplement packets and opened the first. Splenda. I poured a small amount into my hand tentatively sampled the hard white flakes. They were bittersweet, and I had half a mind to spit them out. Their unpalatable flavor spread over my tongue like a virus, and I quickly downed some water. I do that everywhere: sample the sugar packets at restaurants to see which one's best. Not that I ever use them; real sugar is just fine for me.
The waiter sauntered up to my table. "Mind if I sit? It's my break."
I glanced around the room. Plenty of similar red velvet booths were empty, and this table happened to have a terrible draft. "I don't see why not."
The waiter smiled and sat down across from me, grinning softly. The waiter was definitely Oriental, but his eyes were a hazel green that caught my interest; not what you'd call good looking, but he did have a sort of charm that made me want to stare at him all night.
"That your boyfriend?" the waiter asked, gesturing, unperturbed by my staring, to the door.
I shrugged. "I don't mind him."
The waiter's eyes twinkled. I couldn't look away. "You don't mind him? How romantic." The waiter laughed, leaning forward slightly and closing his eyes. It was a nice laugh. You might call it sincere.
"Well, he's nice, he doesn' mind me-" I couldn't think of anything else.
The waiter chuckled. "Am I nice?"
"Sure."
"Well, I don't mind you. Does that make me your boyfriend?"
I considered that. "I know almost everything about him." The waiter's eyes laughed. "No, really," I explained, "there's not much to know. We've been together for a long time."
The waiter nodded. I could tell he understood. It was just one of those things. "What if you knew everything about Frank Sinatra? Would he be your boyfriend?" I marveled at the perfect seriousness, no sarcasm involved.
I gave that one some thought. "He's dead."
"That's a problem?"
"Maybe. No. It depends."
"It depends?" The waiter's eyes shone.
"It depends on the person he was when he was alive."
The waiter nodded. "That makes sense."
"What's your name?"
"Haven't got one."
"Haven't got one?"
The waiter pointed at his nametag. It was blank. "Haven't got one."
"Sorry."
"Why?"
I wasn't sure. "You're the first person I've met without a name."
The waiter was amused. "Do I seem worse for wear?"
"I guess not."
The waiter glanced at his small black watch. 11:24. "It's almost closing time. I can give you a ride home after I finish cleaning up, if you don't mind waiting."
I didn't mind. I never do.
We made love in his room that night. The waiter was surprisingly gentle. The waiter probably knew it was my first time. Still, it wasn't awkward, like I'd imagined it would be. I'd never cared about the whole virginity thing in the first place, but I'd never gotten around to getting rid enough.
Afterwords I showered and the waiter gave me a ride home.
...

"You've got to understand," my friend told me sheepishly, sipping her black coffee and staring intently into my eyes. Both were habits she'd picked up from the waiter.
I nodded. I knew how easy it was to get caught up in a person.
"The waiter knew too much," she continued fondly, letting her hand stroke the handle of her mug, "I could say anything and he'd understand. Anything." Her eyes cleared for a moment. "I never loved him," she mused, "but I let myself believe I did. We're all able to trick ourselves like that, I think." Another tentative sip. "You know the rest."
I nodded again. I knew that things had gone on like that for months. She would go to the restaurant at 10:30, hang out for an hour, help clean up, go to the waiter's house, have sex, shower and go home. All very methodical, invariable, and according to her, wonderful. Then it just ended.
"Everyone has to wake up from a dream sometime," she told me, "and I got to dream for a long time. I guess I was lucky."
...

"The waiter wasn't at the restaurant one day. Just like that. I asked the hostess if the waiter was sick. She didn't know.
"I was scared. I realized how much I depended on him, on the connection we shared. I know it sounds corney, but I was addicted to him. I ran to his house, but I think part of me knew he wouldn't be there. I couldn't comprehend it. He just disappeared. Gone. It's possible he never existed. Not that I'm crazy. It's just one of those things."
"The door to the waiter's house was unlocked, but it didn't feel like I remembered it. Th waiter's Subaru was gone. I went inside.
"Everything was gone. A bare, cold skeleton of a house was all that was left. I didn't find any of it unnatural though. It just felt like the way life worked. His bedroom was empty too, not that there had been much in it in the first place; the waiter lived like a monk. I walked to the shower as slowly as my feet would let me, running my fingers over the stark walls of his bedroom. I didn't feel a thing maybe it was a dream after all. Maybe I hadn't woken up."
...

"I still don't think I've woken up," she whispered, "I don't think I'll wake up until he comes back." She pulled a small, white rectangle out of her purse. "This is the waiter's nametag," she explained, handing it to me. "You see? Nothing."
I turned the nametag over in my palm. Terrence. "Yeah," I said, handing the nametag back to her, "nothing."
Sometimes people need to keep dreaming.

La Luna, Que Belleza

Ewwwwwwwww....standardized testing is horrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrid.

I realized just now that Doris Day is an cute little woman (upon watching The Ballad of Josie), and a perfectly average actress. But so adorable! She's like a sugar cube or pink frosting with sprinkles. I wonder what it would be like to be her; purely feminine warmth and sweet glances, like a fragrant angel.

It makes me giggle how wonderful people can be. I'd like to be one, really; it would be amazing to be darling. That or to be a kindly senile woman--if I could count on being senile, I'd want to live a long life. I wouldn't be the Arsenic and Old Lace type, necessarily, but I would at least be the Wedding Singer type granny. Hmhmm, that would be nice.

I don't know how to deal with my writing right now. I ave plenty ideas, but I just can't focus, as if my mind decided to play tag and I have to chase it. I wonder if that's considered idiocy or lunacy. Huh, lunacy. I really like that word: it's as if the moon makes you crazy. La luna, que belleza. Mis ojos sonrien para ti. Dulcemente, Carinosamente, perfectamente....Ha ha, Spanish is beautiful to me, even if I do some of the grammatical stuff incorrectly. The moon, what beauty. My eyes smile for you. Sweetly, lovingly, perfectly. I'm in a rambling mood and I'm just not saying anything sensible or useful. Oh well, rambling is nice.

Semi-Screamo Bands Before Wall-e and Unpacking

Yesterday I heard this song in my friend's car, and it made me think. And then I was a little sad.


La Dispute: One

In the last quarter of the twentieth century
much of the world sat on the edge of an increasingly expensive theater seat
waiting for something momentous to occur.
Christian aficionados of the Second Coming scenario were convinced that,
after two thousand years, the other shoe was about to drop.
And five of the era's best-known psychics predicted
that Atlantis would soon reemerge from the depths.
To this last, Princess Leigh-Cheri responded,
"There are three lost continents: we are one: the lovers.
"In whatever esteem on might hold Princess Leigh-Cheri's thoughts, one must agree
that the last quarter of the twentieth century was a severe period for lovers.
It was a time a time when romantic relationships took on the character of ice in spring,
stranding many little children on jagged and inhospitable floes.
Nobody quite knew what to make of the moon anymore. Consider a certain night in August.
The moon was so bloated it was about to tip over.
For more than an hour, Leigh-Cheri stared into the sky. "Does the moon have a purpose?" She inquired.
The same query put to the Remington SL3 elicited this response:
Albert Camus wrote that the only serious question
is whether to kill yourself or not.
Tom Robbins wrote that the only serious question
is whether time has a beginning and an end.
Camus clearly got up on the wrong side of bed,
and Robbins must have forgotten to set the alarm.
There is only one serious question. And that is:
Who knows how to make love stay?
Answer me that and I will tell you whether or not to kill yourself.
Answer me that and I will ease your mind about the beginning and end of time,
Answer me that and I will reveal to you the purpose of the moon.

Almost Done, Dang It. I Was Getting Obsessed.

This is the third piece of my Shakespeare soliloquy, and I'm back to iambic pentameter (thank goodness!)

And yet, t'was not so consarn'd i'th'beginning;
Temple Grafton gone, experimentation
T'was the essence o'my youthful being.
So insidious was the time, and love:
(5) Venturous, imbecilic 'n'fantastic!
Harmonic Emilia! Where hast thou gone?
Back to thine husband? Thy sickly consort
O'whom all my jealousy rivited up'n?
Ah, perhaps you've gone, ebbed n'waned away
(10) 'Til nothing remains but ardent mem'ry.
Sidney's Puck quoth, "What fools these mortals be!"
Th'flippant faerie may've comprehend'd rightly;
Beings malodorous as I're easily
Confounded. This being th'case, I'm decieved.
(15) Fool-hardy, mine fascinations of old--
Undiluded, unrefined, a'diamond i'th'rough--
Such callow romance did cloud mine eyes,
Those constant, veridical crystals t'th'soul,
That intelligable meditation
(20) T'was unattainable, nay, insanable, a'th'time.
The course of true love never did run smooth;
Lysander found veracity i'that.
Fools who dream do lack th'straight integrity,
Which doth seek out th'dignified n'magnific,
(25) Do gain th'nugget o'purest silver: amour--
Th'fervor which doth battle 'gainst enmity
And pluck detestation out o'th'hard'st bossom.
'Tis true, for Mary Sidney claim'd it so,
And her love for Brooke surely proved it'all.
(30) Ah, tender anemnesis doth dry m'tears
And so lead me t'Aphrodite's sweet pool,
Where meadows n'glen offer breezes o'primrose
And m'darling rests her head up'n fair lilies.

My Music of the Day: A Bunch Of Losers Who Might Not Know It

This is a song of Bruce Springsteen's that the Format redid, and I really like it. For You Princess cards she sends me with her regards Barroom eyes shine vacancy, to see her you gotta look hard Wounded deep in battle, I stand stuffed like some soldier undaunted To her Cheshire smile. I'll stand on file, she's all I ever wanted But you let your blue walls get in the way of these facts Honey, get your carpetbaggers off my back You wouldn't even give me time to cover my tracks You said "Here's your mirror and your ball and jacks" But they're not what I came for, and I'm sure you see that too I came for you, for you, I came for you, but you did not need my urgency I came for you, for you, I came for you, but your life was one long emergency And your cloud line urges me, and my electric surges free Crawl into my ambulance, your pulse is getting weak Reveal yourself all now to me girl while you've got the strength to speak `Cause they're waiting for you at Bellevue with their oxygen masks But I could give it all to you now if only you could ask And don't call for your surgeon even he says it's too late It's not your lungs this time, it's your heart that holds your fate Don't give me money, honey, I don't want it back You and your pony face and your union jack Well take your local joker and teach him how to act I swear I was never that way even when I really cracked Didn't you think I knew that you were born with the power of a locomotive Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound? And your Chelsea suicide with no apparent motive You could laugh and cry in a single sound And your strength is devastating in the face of all these odds Remember how I kept you waiting when it was my turn to be the god? You were not quite half so proud when I found you broken on the beach Remember how I poured salt on your tongue and hung just out of reach And the band they played the homecoming theme as I caressed your cheek They ragged, jagged melody she still clings to me like a leach But that medal you wore on your chest always got in the way Like a little girl with a trophy so soft to buy her way We were both hitchhikers but you had your ear tuned to the roar Of some metal-tempered engine on an alien, distant shore So you, left to find a better reason than the one we were living for And it's not that nursery mouth I came back forI t's not the way you're stretched out on the floor `Cause I've broken all your windows and I've rammed through all your doors And who am I to ask you to lick my sores? And you should know that's true I came for you, for you, I came for you, but you did not need my urgency I came for you, for you, I came for you, but your life was one long emergency And your cloud line urges me, and my electric surges free

And then they broke up! Grrr...

And this is Bo Burnham, who seems to be a teenage Tom Lehrer for this millenium. Only dirtier. Thanks, E and J, for taking that much innocence out of me.

whats a pirate minus the ship? just a creative homeless guy,and an anteater plus a large hungry mutant ant? an ironic way to dieand whats domain, domain, range (xxy) a kid with too much in his pantsand two balls minus one, six titles at the tour de france.
split a decision with long division, take the circumference of your circumcisionlive like your data and when you're all "set"put it all together and whatever you get.
is new math...
whats a bag of chips divided by five, thats a nike worker's mealand santa clause mutliplied by "i" well i guess that makes him real,and the square root of the NBA is Africa in a box,how do u trace a scatter plot? give the pencil to michael j fox.
take the approximate moral proportion of the probable problem of a pro-life abortionlive like your data, and when youre all "set"put it all together and whatever you get...
is new math.
and if you made a factor tree of the factors that caused my girl to leave me youd have a tree...full of asian porn.C-A-L-C-U-LATOR (see you later) mathetmatical minds make industrial smog.and whats the opposite of lnx, duraflame the unnatural log.
support the farmers with a pro-tractor, link kennedy and lincoln with a common factor (fact, or)live like ur data...blah blah
word problems
if theres a fat guy in a pastry shop with a twenty dollar bill and he's ready to buy,in order to predict his volume change you need to know the value of pi (pie)and theres a metal train that a mile long and at the very back end a lightning bolt struck her,how long til it reaches adn kills the driver, provided that he's a good conductor,and if ten percent of men are gay and twenty percent of men are chinese, what are the odds that a men chosen at random spends his freetime and mealtime while on his kneesand if kim is half as old as bobby who is two years older then twelve year old tori,for how many more 30 day months will their threesomes be considered statutory rape
cause havin sex is like quadratic expansion if it cant be split then its time to stop,and havin sex is like doing fractions, its improper for the larger one to be on top, and havin sex is like math homework, i do it best when i'm alone in my bed.and squarin numbers are just like women, if theyre under thirteen just do them in your head....
and new math

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=obIGsb-IZMo

Ha ha ha ha ha, I feel better now. Time for Ben Kweller!

Shakespeare's Nostalgia...and Where It's Taking My Soliloquy!

This is part two to my Shakespeare soliloquy. I don't like it as much as the first, but it's only a rough draft.


A dangerous tune to which we danced
I'th'beginning o'our glorious fame.
Whence I left kindred Lancashire
T'drain lively London's fortunes dry,
(5) Met me said courtiers,
All o'whom desired my assistance.
Rapacity, avidity;
No excesses lessen'd m'desire
For those treasures freely given,
(10) And as such, freely taken.
But O! Vivid, dark, doom'd Macbeth!
Hecate was my lum'nous glory,
My bitter, acrid enchantress,
Unsullied partner t'sultry Nyx;
(15) Her impassioned speech t'th'Weird Sisters
Was my prized contribution
T'th'cursed play, our James ancestry.
O! Fair is foul and foul is fair!
How dost life seem now, so artless,
(20) Lacking th'substance o'intrepid man!
Ah me, how foolish. My dull brain
Was wrought with things forgotten.
How well our own Edward writ it!
Truth, Brooke was th'tortured soul o'Macbeth
(25) And so writ th'lines eternal: Life's
But a walking shadow, a poor
Player that struts and frets upon
The stage and then is heard no more....
T'was such idyllic tyranny
(30) Upon a soul, so that refrains
O'mine t'were heard by God in Heaven!

I Wrote This Story Called "The Waiter"

and I really like it so far, but it needs a lot of work. So if anyone likes proof reading...

The Waiter

“I don’t come here often.”
I nodded, twirling my fork in the soupy wreckage otherwise known as tortellini. It really didn’t matter. I knew he was excusing his poor taste in restaurants, but that wasn’t the problem. There was no real problem. Except for me.
He glanced down at his soggy fetuccini alfredo and exhaled a meager sigh. “I’ll drive you home.”
I shook my head and fiddled with my spoon. “No thanks.”
He raised an eyebrow. “It’s a long walk.”
“I don’t mind it.” I really didn’t. I never mind walking.
He gave a resigned shrug. “See you."
“Yeah.” I nodded and looked up into his face. He was one of those people who looked perpetually tired. His brown, practically gray hair was lank and his eyes gave off a faint glimmer, like a light bulb at the end of a long, dank sewer. “See you.”
I heard the bells on the door jingle as he left. I grabbed a few sugar supplement packets and opened the first. Splenda. I poured a small amount into my hand and tentatively sampled the hard white flakes. They were bittersweet, and I had half a mind to spit them out. They spread through my mouth like a virus, and I quickly downed some of my water to rid myself of the taste. I do that everywhere: sample the sugar packets at restaurants to see which one’s best. Not that I ever use them. Real sugar is just fine for me.
The waiter sauntered up to my table. “Mind if I sit? It’s my break.”
I glanced around the room. Plenty of similar velvet booths were empty, and this table happened to have a terrible draft. “I don’t see why not.”
The waiter smiled and sat down across from me and grinned softly. The waiter was definitely Oriental, but his eyes were a hazel green that caught my interest. The waiter wasn’t what you’d call good looking, but he did have a sort of charm that made me want to stare at him all day.
“That your boyfriend?” the waiter asked, gesturing, unperturbed by my staring, to the door.
I shrugged. “I don’t mind him.”
The waiter’s eyes twinkled. I couldn’t look away. “You don’t mind him? How romantic.” The waiter laughed, leaning forward slightly and closing his eyes. It was a nice laugh. You might call it sincere.
“Well, he’s nice, he doesn’t mind me-” I couldn’t think of anything else.
The waiter chuckled. “Am I nice?”
“Sure.”
“Well, I don’t mind you. Does that make me your boyfriend?”
I considered that. “I know almost everything about him.” The waiter’s eyes laughed. “No, really,” I explained, “there’s not much to know. We’ve known each other for a long time.”
The waiter nodded. I could tell he understood. It was just one of those things. “What if you knew everything about Heath Ledger? Would he be your boyfriend?” I marveled at the perfect seriousness, no sarcasm involved.
I gave that one some thought. “He’s dead.”
“That’s a problem?”
“Maybe. No. It depends.”
“Depends?” The waiter’s eyes shone.
“It depends on the person they were when they were alive.”
The waiter nodded. “That makes sense.”
“What’s your name?”
“Haven’t got one.”
I stared at the waiter. “Haven’t got one?”
The waiter pointed to his nametag. It was blank. “Haven’t got one.”
“Sorry.”
“Why?”
I wasn’t sure. “You’re the first person I’ve met without a name.”
The waiter was amused. “Do I seem worse for wear?”
“I guess not.”
The waiter glanced at his small black watch. 11:30 pm. “It’s almost closing time. I can give you a ride home after I finish cleaning up, if you don’t mind waiting.”
I didn’t mind. I never do.
We made love in his room that night. The waiter was surprisingly gentle. The waiter probably knew it was my first time. Still, it wasn’t awkward, like I’d imagined my first time would be. I’d never cared about the whole virginity thing in the first place, but I’d never gotten around to getting rid of it. Afterwards I showered and the waiter gave me a ride home.

… … … …

“You’ve got to understand,” she told me sheepishly, sipping her black coffee and staring intently into my eyes. Another habit she’d picked up from the waiter.
I nodded. I knew how easy it was to get caught up in a person.
“The waiter knew so much,” she continued fondly, letting her hand stroke the handle of her mug, “I could say anything and he’d understand. Anything.” Her eyes cleared for a moment. “I never loved him.” She mused, “but I let myself believe I did. We’re all able to trick ourselves like that, I think.” Another tentative sip. “You know most of the rest.”
I nodded again. I knew that things had gone on like that for months. She would go to the restaurant at 10:30, hang out for an hour, help clean up, go to the waiter’s house, have sex, shower and go home. All very methodical, invariable, and according to her, wonderful. Then it just ended.
“Everyone has to wake up from a dream sometime,” she told me, “and I got to dream for a long time. I guess I was lucky.”

… … … … …
“The waiter wasn’t at the restaurant one day. Just like that. I asked the hostess, who had gotten to know me over the past few months, if the waiter was sick. She didn’t know.
I was scared. I realized how much I depended on him, on the connection we shared. I know it sounds corney, but I was addicted to him. I ran to his house, but I think part of me knew he wouldn’t be there. I couldn’t comprehend it. He just disappeared. Gone. It’s possible he never existed. Not that I’m crazy. It’s just one of those things.”
“The door of the waiter’s house was unlocked, but it didn’t feel like I remembered it. The waiter’s Subaru was gone. I went inside.
“Everything was gone. A bare, cold skeleton of a house was all that was left. I didn’t find any of it unnatural though. It just felt like the way life worked. His bedroom was empty too, not that there had been much in it in the first place. The waiter lived like a monk. I walked to the bathroom as slowly as my feet would let me, running my fingers over the stark walls of his bedroom. I didn’t feel a thing. Maybe it was a dream after all. Maybe I hadn’t woken up.”

… … … … …

“I still don’t think I’ve woken up,” she whispered. “I don’t think I’ll wake up until he comes back.” She pulled a small, white rectangle out of her purse. “This is the waiter’s nametag,” she explained, handing it to me. “You see? Nothing.”
I turned the nametag over in my palm. Terrence. “Yeah,” I said, handing the nametag back to her, “nothing.”
Sometimes people need to keep dreaming.



Good? Bad? Ugly?

Sometimes All You Need Is a Musical and A Wendy's Frosty (not the vanilla kind)

Life has been really stressful lately, and part of me feels as though it's my fault. I've got about two good friends at my school. I'm not doing so well in math--Okay, I'm almost failing. I've got competitions for my best sport in the upcoming weeks and I don't feel like I'm strong enough. I need to get a job and I haven't got a car yet to get anywhere, much less my liscense. Boys are being stupid (not that that's new).

That's why I jump at the happy chances. Sometimes you just need to jump in your friends unsafe car to go watch a cheesy musical. Sometimes you need to catch up with the people you've been missing for months. Sometimes you need to play with the radio and the GPS (which I forgot to name--dang it!). Sometimes you have to turn the wrong way at the light and wonder how to get home from there. Sometimes you need to go to Wendy's, freak out because you think it's closed, then realize the drive thru's open and buy two frosty's and sit in a Walmart parking lot and enjoy chocolatey goodness. And sometimes it makes everything better. Especially if it's a good friend who will put up with your crazy antics (and doesn't mind being bitten).

And maybe sometimes you have to help your friend dress up as a mummy (or a crash test dummy). Sometimes you have to dress up as a hippy (who got cold and put on her jacket) and go trick-or-treating and garage haunted housing. Sometimes you have to play mafia and find (to your utmost shock) that Bean and Anberlin lover killed you off. Sometimes you have to watch a scary movie you can't deal with and scream (yes, I'm sorry to admit, I do scream during scary movies). Sometimes you have to eat a rediculously large amount of candy. Sometimes you have to dash outside and try in vain to make curfew.

Hee hee, life feels better now.

I Haven't Got Anywhere Else to Write This, and I Need to Copy and Paste It, So Here Goes

Life may never be looked back upon with complete and utter objectivity. There are too many things in the way: grief, guilt, general trifles, all of which seemed so senseless and trivial, now plague the haggard mind. With this idea in grasp, Richard Rodriguez fills his passage with a nostalgic tone, purposeful diction and a mysterious narrative structure.
Understandably, Rodriguez fills his passage with a nostalgic tone frequently used with any sort of family gathering in mind. The purpose of reminescence in his passage is to establish the trade-off between a family in itself and a family combined with the excess of wealth and, arguably, modern society. Mama Rodriguez in particular finds necesity in clinging to yet "Another Christmas" (Rodriguez, line 20) in which the spark of jubilant excitement lacks the luster of Rodriguez's youth. The idea that "...it was not quite...the Christmas one remembers having had once..." (Rodriguez, lines 33-35) furthers the initial wave of nostalgia. The almost remorseful tone of Rodriguez indicates his mother's sorrowful longing for the days when she told her children to expect riches.
Initially, Rodriguez's diction difinitively points to the sought-after wealth of his family and the ironic lack-luster existence it entails. From the ownership of "shiny mink jacket(s)" (Rodriguez, line 29), "expensive foreign cars" (Rodriguez, line 25) to the jobs of "business executives" and "lawyers" (Rodriguez, lines 2-3), it is easily comprehended that Rodriguez's mama's predictions hav come true. And yet, the happiness she wished for seems to have eluded her entire family and their style of living. The sadness expressed in his mother seems to be the effect of the realization of the hopelessness in her family's situation. Rodriguez specifially points to his new life as "paradise" (line 36), but one does not come to hte comclusion that he believes what he states.
Most interestingly, Rodriguez's intriguing narrative structure introduces a surprise: the depreciated father and his unexpectedly tenuous relations with his oldest son. Throughout the entire piece, all emphasis lies on the relationship between mama Rodriguez and her children, minimally mentioning his father. This lack of literary presence may cause one to wonder at Rodriguez's motives for even bothering to mention the man at all; his name makes only small appearances, when the grown daughters and sons shout at their "father"Rodriguez, line 28) or when mama Rodriguez askes Richard to bring "Daddy" (Rodriguez, line 39). As if papa Rodriguez lies amidst crumpled Christmas wrapping paper and worthless expensive trinkets, forgotten. This idea only grows more potent by the end of the passage, when Rodriguez realizes the absence of his father's involvement in the family, merely asking if his son is "going home now" (Rodriguez, line 46). The fascinating unimportance of his father furthers the idea of the less-than-perfect life the Rodriguez family gained. It is as if Rodriguez realizes the futility and emptiness of his family's circumstances.
With his nostalgic tone, purposeful diction and intriguing narrative structure, Rodriguez paints a portrait of his family life and the disillusionment it brings. The futility which engulfs the reader is but a reflection of Rodriguez's work of art, however, and one can only imagine the emotions which play in the midst of the author's mind.

I'm Really Frustrated With My Shakespeare Class Because They WON'T Comment on My Soliloquy

So I'm posting it on here, dang it! I have to write a soliloquy from Shakespeare's point of view, and my idea is that he didn't write a large majority of his plays. He's reflecting upon the hour of his death, and this is what's running through his mind (this is only the opening--I haven't written the other four segments yet).


How now? Are my days curs'd to end as such?
T'would be well deserv'd, i'faith. Night pulls th'veil
O'Nyx 'cross my frail eyes; surely day's gone.
O! That I could sink i't'the Khaos from which I sprung,
Or else fly t'Aether on silken clouds; No-
I am Pontius, curs'd t'wash my bloodied hands
Which do reek o'th'carnage of life's o'erthrows.
Aye, what suff'ring does plague my haggard mind
As if some serpentine poison settled,
Seeping int'those fescennine crevices
Which the soul doth attempt to sepulcher.
Still, was it not fate's hand which interven'd?
Hath I all the blame? No no, surely not.
For if conscience made cowards of us all,
Good England would lack much posterity;
'Tis better the world gain the folio,
Be it hardly of my own withered hand,
And reap the benefits of truest art
Gained by perfidious means 'n'motley pens.
Th'most fervid of pens was Edward de Vere,
That solemn, poetic aristocrat;
Then Sirs Francis Bacon, Walter Raleigh
And th'intellectual Edmund Spencer,
Those gentlemenly philosophicals;
Last came Lord Brooke and Sir Philip Sidney,
And his charitable sister Mary
Of whom th'incomparable pair were sprung.
Ah! Art ardent memories t'plague me such?
Whilst wonders became masterpeices
In this circle of stage worthy players,
I scarcely gave to't, yet recieve th'applause!
Yet peace-I'll let reminecence take hold And live in blissful recollection
Until night pulls it's everlasting shade.

Techno and Apple Salad. What Can I Say?

Sometimes life hits you in the face with a baseball bat. Other times, it pitches the ball to you at a hundred and ten miles per hour. But you know, it's better than standing in the outfield, watching everyone else screw up and getting no action. Which is how I've been feeling recently. But things are starting to change. Like my wallflower role might be disappearing. Maybe I've hit the dancefloor. But I feel like I've lost something. Maybe a perspective. But I'm not going back. No way. Life only comes once. And people change. I think I've changed. Some of it's subtle, some of it's not. I wonder if anyone will be able to tell. I wonder if it will make a difference. All I can do is keep dancing. I guess that's all we can expect from anyone. It's a little hard. But it's way more fun. I'm excited. Hopefully I'm making the right choice. I was doing fine on my own. But I think there were costs. I was very lonely. And maybe too ambitious. It's a cold way to live life. And in retrospect, what's more important: the place I make it to, or the life lived to get there? I've gained so much by losing that initial ambition. I'm so much happier, even though things are just as tough; maybe tougher. And I'm not as lonely. I want to help. I want to love them the way they've loved me.

Today's Not the Day to do Anything Spectacular. Hot Cocoa Works.

Sometimes I wish I could disappear into the world of dusty novels and scrawled notebooks, where no one can hurt me and I can hurt no one. Things would be so much simpler. If I could vanish like an elephant and let night consume me. I could tie a ribbon around my world and take it with me too. If it could be that simple, I would escape in an instant. Leave everything that was taking over my mind and grinding against my heart. How's that for angst?

Since I can't do that, I'll have to make due with listening to "Tune Out" by the Format and reading Dance Dance Dance by Haruki Murakami, simultaneously watching Little Miss Sunshine. It'll have to do.

School Impacting My Actual Life for the First Time in Years

I'm doing a photo-essay in school, and it's forcing me to reflect on the things I truly value in life. School, causing me to think-that's a first. Still, I'm not sure it's what I truly value. Maybe it's a sequel to my favorite things. Not much of it matters to anyone else. It matters to me. And the more I think about it, the less it makes sense. I'm focusing on what makes me content, even happy. Moments in time are never repeated; and I think that living, not repeating, is what should make sense. When so many things in life are repetitive; so slightly varied that you can barely tell one day from the next, one moment from the other; maybe moments should be taken more seriously.

Everything about those moments: the sounds, the emotions, the mood, the smells, the energy; the physical and the mental should be recognized, appreciated, and absorbed. If no two moments are the same, then each one should be celebrated. Don't get me wrong, familiarity isn't a bad thing. Familiarity is part of a moment though. It's part of what I wouldn't mind taking with me. And let's be realistic: not all moments are good. Some of them should be shut up in boxes, shipped to France and dumped in the sewers of Paris, for all I care. It would be better that way. But you can't send a moment to some disgusting city and hope it will disappear; moments have their ways of sticking to your mind. But at least you know that a moment like that will never be experienced again.

That's Depressing. But not really.

I was reading through Elizabethan World-Primary Sources for an English project, and I stumbled across a description of romance that I couldn't help but laugh at:

"romance: A literary work about improbable events involving characters that are quite different from ordinary people." (Shostak, xxii)

My reaction was, "Is she serious?", and I believe that she (Elizabeth Shostak) did in fact mean precisely what she wrote. Upon concluding this, I laughed. A lot. But it really is sad, isn't it, because a large part of it is true. If anyone could experience life the way it's experienced in books, biographies would become best-sellers. Or, perhaps no one would bother reading anything at all, seeing as they would already be living their wonderful romance.

There is no real purpose to me writing this, but there's never been solid purpose in the first place, and I thought it might be funny for someone to "stumble" over. It makes me smile.

Beauty's Rose (Shakespeare's pretty cool, I'll admit)

From fairest creatures we desire increase,/That thereby beauty's rose might never die.
-William Shakespeare

I have a question: What about all of the other creatures out there? They don't call you the fairest for nothing. So what about the rest, those who watch said rose wilt away into nothing, with no one to watch or care? Is there nothing that can be done about it? I don't like it and it's not fair.

On the other hand, this is a beautiful and perfectly human way of thinking. An immortal beauty and wonder is always appreciated, if not strived for. And maybe it's just the thought of love itself that makes the writer feel so passionately. Maybe it's that he sees her as the most lovely creature ever to set eyes upon, and this is all his personal opinion of her splendor. If that's the case, I like it much more.

Turning to Roald Dahl to Make Me Feel Better

I'm on the verge of a nervous breakdown, so I'm looking up quotes that talk about nervous breakdowns, and Dahl was the first one I found. Nobody gets a nervous breakdown or a heart attack from selling kerosene to gentle country folk from the back of a tanker in Somerset. -Roald Dahl One of the symptoms of an approaching nervous breakdown is tha belief that one's work is terribly important. -Bertrand Russell A bad liver is to a Frenchman what a nervous breakdown is to an American. Everyone has had one and everyone wants to talk about it. -Art Buchwald

• I have been to hell and back. I had a very, very bad nervous breakdown.

-Andy Gibb

• Madness need not be all breakdown. It may also be break-through. It is potential liberation and renewal as well as enslavement and existential death.

-R.D. Laing

• I have a nervous breakdown in the film and in one scene I get to stand at the top of the stairs waving an empty sherry bottle which is, of course, a typical scene from my daily life, so isn't much of a stretch.

-Emma Thompson

It's sad that I can't find anymore. Sort of a let down on today's society, what with it's stress-propelled lifestyle. Ah well. On with a life I live my way; umph.

Life sucks. Shoot me in the foot.

Being born is like being kidnapped. And then sold into slavery. -Shakespeare Um...yeah.

My Favorite Book = Jane Eyre

This is one of my favorite books of all time! Jane Eyre is such a great heroine! And I fell in love with Mr. Rochester in all of his lack-luster glory. When comparing hero's of nineteenth century literature, Mr. Rochester beats Mr. Darcy, Heathcliff and the like, no contest! This book made Charlotte my favorite Bronte.

I like quoting novels so much, I think I'll do it again. It's the idea of sharing my favorite parts of novels with anyone who will listen. It's like sampling ice cream, only more rewarding and less fattening. I'm only going to share what I underlined/highlited, rather than finding better and no doubt more interesting quotes on the internet. Sorry if they don't make much sense. All the more reason to read the book, if you haven't.

Why could I never please? Why was it useless to try to win anyone's favour?
-Jane

(singing a gypsy song)
"Men are hardearted, and kind angels only
Watch o'er the steps of a poor orphan child."
-Bessie

"I cry because I am miserable."
-Jane

Life appears to me too short to be spent in nursing animosity or registering wrongs.
-Jane

"You think too much of the love of human beings."
-Helen

"Why, then, should we ever sink overwhelmed with distress, when life is so soon over, and death is so certain an entrance to happiness-to glory?"
-Helen

"We shall think you what you prove yourself to be, my child."
-Miss Temple

(about Helen)
Some years older than I, she knew more of the world, and could tell me many things I liked to hear: with her my curiosity found gratification: to my faults also she gave ample indulgence, never imposing curb or rein on anything I said. She had a turn for narrative, I for analysis; she liked to inform, I to question; so we got on swimmingly together, deriving much entertainment, if not much improvement, from our mutual intercourse.
-Jane

I remembered that the real world was wide, and that a varied field of hopes and fears, of sensations and excitements, awaited those who had courage to go forth into its expanse, to seek real knowledge of life amidst its perils.
-Jane

I desired liberty; for liberty I gasped; for liberty I uttered a prayer; it seemed scattered on the wind then faintly blowing.
-Jane

A new chapter in a novel is something like a new scene in a play.
-Charlotte Bronte

It is a very strange sensation to inexperienced youth to feel itself quite alone in the world....The charm of adventure sweetens that sensation, the glow of pride warms it; but then the throb of fear disturbs it; and fear with me became predominant when half an hour elapsed and still I was alone.
-Jane

Who blames me? Many, no doubt; and I shall be called discontented.
-Jane

It is in vain to say human beings ought to be satisfied with tranquility: they must have action; and they will make it if they cannot find it.
-Jane

I had a theoretical reverence and homage for beauty, elegance, gallantry, fascination; but had I met those qualities incarnate in masculine shape, I should have known instinctively that they neither had nor could have sympathy with anything in me, and should have shunned them as one would fire, lightning, or anything else that is bright but antipathetic.
-Jane

"Excuse me," he continued: "necessity compels me to make you useful."
-Mr. Rochester

(to Jane concerning her occupation as governess)
"Oh, don't fall back on over-modesty!"
-Mr. Rochester

(to Mrs. Fairfax when she tries to compliment Jane)
"Don't trouble yourself to give her a character,"..."eulogiums will not bias me; I shall judge for myself. She began by felling my horse."
-Mr. Rochester

(to and about Jane)
"I know what sort of a mind I have placed in communication with my own: I know it is one not liable to take infection: it is a peculiar mind: it is a unique one. Happily I do not mean to harm it: but if I did, it would not take harm from me."
-Mr. Rochester

(about Mr. Rochester)
Yet I had not forgotten his faults; indeed, I could not, for he brought them frequently before me....But I believed that his moodiness, his harshness, and his former faults of morality (I say former, for now he seemed corrected of them) had their source in some curel cross of fate.
-Jane

"I saw it in your eyes when I first beheld you: their expression and smile did not-did not-strike (he proceeded hastily) strike delight to my very inmost heart so for nothing. People talk of natural sympathies; I have heard of good genii: there are grains of truth in the wildest fable. My cherished preserver, good-night!"
-Mr. Rochester

I had not intended to love him.
-Jane

"Do you think that I can stay to become nothing to you? Do you think I am an automaton?-A machine without feelings?....Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong!-I have as much soul as you-and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you."
-Jane
(My favorite lines come after this passage, but I think that you have to read it for yourself to understand just how wonderful and emotional her words are, and Mr. Rochester's following.)

Mr. Rochester: "You have no faith in me?"
Jane: "Not a whit."

"Well, I feigned courtship of Miss Ingram, because I wished to render you as madly in love with me as I was with you; and I knew jealousy would be the best ally I could call in for the furtherance of that end."
-Mr. Rochester

"Well, for cool native impudence and pure innate pride, you haven't your equal."
-Mr. Rochester

My hopes were all dead-struck with a subtle doom.
-Jane

"You know I am a scoundrel, Jane?"
-Mr. Rochester

"I was dazzled, stimulated: my senses were excited; and being ignorant, raw, and inexperienced, I thought I loved her. There is no folly so besotted that the idiotic rivalries of society, the prurience, the rashness, the blindness of youth, will not hurry a man to its commission."
-Mr. Rochester

(about Jane)
"I was for a while troubled with a haunting fear that if I handled the flower freely its bloom would fade-the sweet charm of freshness would leave it."
-Mr. Rochester

St John: "And what does your heart say?"
Jane: "My heart is mute-my heart is mute,"
St John: "Then I must speak for it,"

(to St John)
"I scorn your idea of love...I scorn you when you offer it."

(to St John)
"You are not really shocked: for, with your superior mind, you cannot be either so dull or so conceited as to misunderstand my meaning."
-Jane

(to Mr. Rochester)
"But if you wish me to love you, could you but see how much I do love you, you whould be proud and content. All my heart is yours, sir: it belongs to you; and with you it would remain, were fate to exile the rest of me from your presence for ever."
-Jane

Reader, I married him.
-Jane

Ha ha, I love Jane! She's so wonderful!

Disney Princess Quotes!

Just learn to like cats.
-Cinderella

Gaston, I’m flattered but… I just don’t deserve you!
-Belle

You think I'm an ignorant "savage" and you've been so many places; I guess it must be so, but still I cannot see if the savage one is me. How can there be so much that you don't know? You don't know.
-Pocahontas

And your beard is so...twisted.
-Jasmine

Oh, you can talk. I'm so glad.
-Snow White

Meg: Sometimes it's better to be alone.
Hercules: What do you mean?
Meg: Nobody can hurt you.

Ling: Oh, yeah? Well, I think Ping and I can take you.
Mulan: I really don't want to take him anywhere

What do you know about my dreams?
-Belle

I've never seen a human this close before. Oh - he's very handsome, isn't he?
-Ariel

[reading Quasimodo's palm]
Esmeralda: I don't see any...
Quasimodo: Any what?
Esmeralda Monster lines. Not a single one.

At least some good will come of my being forced to marry. When I am Queen, I will have the power to get rid of you.
-Jasmine

Men are such babies.
-Anastasia

He comes on with his big, innocent farm boy routine, but I could see through that in a Peloponnesian minute.
-Meg

Uhh... I mean, uh, sorry you had to see that, but you know how it is when you get those, uh, manly urges, and you just gotta kill somethin'... fix things, uh, cook outdoors...
-Mulan

You have a library?
-Belle

I never want to see a naked man again.
-Mulan

Let's see. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine... So there's ten of you and one of me. What's a poor girl to do?
[Pretends to cry into a handkerchief, then blows on it and disappears in a cloud of smoke]
-Esmeralda

Anastasia: Do you really think I'm royalty?
Dmitri: You know I do!
Anastasia: Then stop bossing me around!

I'm a damsel, I'm in distress, I can handle this. Have a nice day.
-Meg

Auroroa: Well, I'm really not supposed to speak to strangers, but we've met before.
Philip: Where?
Aurora: Once upon a dream.

How dare you? All of you! Standing around deciding my future. I am not a prize to be won!
-Jasmine

All right, I'm going inside. You can just stay here and watch for sharks.
-Ariel

Years of dreams just can't be wrong!
-Anastasia

Phoebus: You fight almost as well as a man.
Esmeralda: Funny, I was going to say the same thing about you.

No! No. Please…please, please don’t leave me. I love you.
-Belle

I'm a big tough girl. I tie my own sandals and everything.
-Meg

Just because I look like a man doesn't mean I have to smell like one.
-Mulan

John Smith: Pocahontas, that tree is talking to me.
Pocahontas: Then you should talk back.

You're not getting cold fins now, are you?
-Ariel

What? Hey why are you circling me? What were you, a vulture in another life?
-Anastasia

Oh, that clock! Old killjoy.
-Cinderella

Flounder, don't be such a Guppy.
-Ariel

Well you should learn to control your temper!
-Belle

But they say if you dream a thing more than once, it's sure to come true. And I've seen him so many times.
-Aurora

Esmeralda: You mistreat this young man the same way you mistreat my people. You speak of justice, yet you are cruel to those most in need of your help.
Frollo: Silence!
Esmeralda: Justice!

[after Hercules accidentally breaks the arms off a statue of Venus] It looks better that way. No, it really does.
-Meg

Gaston: How can you read this? There are no pictures in it!
Belle: Well, some people use their imagination.

But I don't wanna kick the other kid's butt.
-Mulan

Are you always this charming, or am I just lucky?
-Esmeralda

John Smith: Well, when I say uncivilized, what I mean is, is...
Pocahontas: What you mean is, "not like you."

Please don't talk anymore, it's only going to upset me.
-Anastasia

Gaston, you are positively primeval.
-Belle

Just follow me, out the window, round the dumbells, you lift up the back wall and we're gone.
-Meg

Now for a name. I've got one! Octavius. But for short, we'll call you Gus.
-Cinderella

You're not free to make your own choices.
-Jasmine

Esmeralda: What are you doing?
Frollo: [caressing her neck] I was just imagining a rope around that beautiful neck.
Esmeralda: I know what you were imagining.

I want much more than this provincial life!
-Belle

[getting off of Pegasus after riding] I'll be fine. Just get me down before I ruin the upholstery.
-Meg

My ancestors sent a little lizard to help me?
-Mulan

Beast: You can't stay in there forever!
Belle: Yes, I can!

Uh, I've got a name. Ha! And it's a boy's name, too.
-Mulan

I could not resist.
-Snow White

For your information, I earned it.
-Esmeralda

Then maybe I don't wanna be a princess anymore.
-Jasmine

The sea of raging hormones has ebbed.
-Meg

No, I mean it. Lucifer has his good points, too. For one thing, he... Well, sometimes he... Hmmm. There must be something good about him.
-Cinderella



I had to start and end it with Cinderella. Not all of these make sense, but I like them a lot. And I'm not positive about Meg, Mulan, Pocahontas and Esmeralda being actual princesses. And I don't know if The Hunchback of Notre Dame is a Disney movie or something else. But I had to include them all!

My Favorite Things

I like lists, so I'll list listlessly away. These are a few of my favorite things:


Lilacs

Walks

Sunlight on leaves

Paris When it Sizzles

Funny Face

Clever people

Forget-me-nots

Deer

Dogs (when they don't bite off my nose. Ha ha, long story!)

Jane Eyre

Edward Norton

shaking trees

Chai tea

Rainy, cloudy days

Paintball, outnumbered three to seven!

Baking

Puddle jumping

Sentimental music

Myrtle

Eyes (though perhaps not for eating)

The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Disney Princesses

Skillet

Regency Costumes

The Princess Bride (Book!)

Running

Morning Doves

Fog

Chandeliers

Paul Bettany

Sapphires

Musicals

Sarcasm

A Picture of Dorian Gray

Blowing out candles

Giraffes

Writing letters

Cemeteries

Parcheesi

My Fair Lady



To be continued...

Help Wanted

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!

Does anyone have connections with the mafia? I wish to dispose of someone!
(I'm sure I don't mean it, but I'm really debating it right now)

Those Nights

I've been thinking about my friends lately. They've been there for me, so I think as substantial amount of thought is fitting. Each of them have so much crap in their lives, and yet they take the time to comfort me about my silly, trivial problems. Maybe it's that when I'm with them, I forget. And that's good, because everyone needs to forget every once in a while. And maybe it's knowing that I'm not alone, and that things could be so much worse.

My friend made me a cd with all of Skillet's Comatose songs, and I'd listen to it whenever I was rediculously angry. But I usually skipped over song #7, Those Nights, because I decided from the beginning of the song that it wasn't angry enough. NEVER judge a song by it's intro. I listened to it today, and I was so moved my chest hurt. Don't get me wrong, it's not the most moving song in the world. It's the people in my life who make it mean so much. Maybe a lot of people say that about this song. I'm not sure. It doesn't really matter, I suppose.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s7296i-iiFk&feature=related


It's not the best video in the world, but it'll do. Here are the lyrics

Those Nights

I remember when we used to laugh
about nothing at all
It was better than going mad
From trying to solve all the problems we're going through
Forget 'em all
Cause on those nights we would stand and never fall
Together we faced it all

Remember when we'd
Stay up late and we'd talk all night
In the dark room lit by the TV light
Through all the hard times in my life
Those nights kept me alive
We'd listen to the radio play all night
Didn't want to go home to another fight
Through all the hard times in my life
Those nights kept me alive

I remember when we used to drive anywhere but here
As long as we'd forget our lives
We were so young and confused
That we didn't know to laugh or cry
Those nights were ours
They will live and never die
Together we'd stand forever

Remember when we'd
Stay up late and we'd talk all night
In the dark room lit by the TV light
Through all the hard times in my life
Those nights kept me alive
We'd listen to the radio play all night
Didn't want to go home to another fight
Through all the hard times in my life
Those night kept me alive

Those nights belong to us
There's nothing wrong with us
Those nights belong to us

I remember when we used to laugh
And now i wish those nights would last

Stay up late and we'd talk all night
In the dark room lit by the TV light
Through all the hard times in my life
Those nights kept me alive
We'd listen to the radio play all night
Didn't want to go home to another fight
Through all the hard times in my life
Those night kept me alive

Stay up late and we'd talk all night
In the dark room lit by the TV light
Through all the hard times in my life
Those nights kept me alive
We'd listen to the radio play all night
Didn't want to go home to another fight
Through all the hard times in my life
Those night kept me alive

Those nights belong to us
There's nothing wrong

Inexperienced

I want to be a writer. This is somewhat problematic, since I have very few experiences to write upon. Emotions are well and good, but beyond the realm of my little world, I've experienced nothing. What do I do? Contemporary is beyond me due to my lack of worldliness, and anything classic or gothic requires something of romance, which I have no experience with either. It's a predicament, because I'm afraid to gain the experience in the first place. Books are the only way I learn. So I guess I'll have to keep reading. Urgh, this is frustrating!

Love-Hebrew Style

I've been thinking about raka, ahava and dode. It was and is believed by many that a successful marriage needed all of these, and I just wondered if there were any marriages out there that actually did. I don't want to be angst-y, but I haven't seen many marriages where friendship, commitment and desire were all combined. It just seems like something is always missing. At least it explains why affairs don't usually work, but they don't need to because they're affairs, so whoever is unfaithful doesn't really suffer any consequences. It's just unfair to the people who are willing to give everything they have suffer because the person they give everything to is a scoundrel. But I'm sure many don't view it that way. Life is expected to be lived with an excess of pleasure, and seeing as their are no real consequences (besides, say, someone's trust, affection and support, which apparently means nothing anyway), this happens more and more as we step into this age. There's no real point to what I'm saying, it just takes away any desire to trust in love, or marriage, or friends. I hate the way it works out, but I suppose since everyone is human, we can't trust each other.

Big Ticket Festival

I just got back from an amazing weekend at the Big Ticket Festival in Michigan. I got to see some of my favorite bands and artists like Red Umbrella, Heath McNease and Barlow Girl, and some bands I'd never heard of before like Disciple and Sevenglory. I was excited that I got there in time for the first performance of the day: Heath McNease. I'd heard him a couple times before and have one of his CD's, and he's the only southern Christian rapper I've ever heard, and his lyrics are worth looking at. I've only heard some of his acoustic but what I've heard is very lullaby-like and nothing like his rap, but still good. Barlow Girl is amazing, even though I missed my favorite song, Never Alone, because I tried to get a freezing cold shower in and ended up not rinsing my hair thoroughly. Yetch. But I still enjoyed listening to them and I like that every member of Barlow Girl is multi-talented. Red Umbrella sings an amazing song called Storm Warning, which I enjoyed. Their music is also very lullaby-esque, and since I hadn't seen them perform in a long time, it made seeing them even more of a treat.

Help!

Does anyone have the lyrics to the following songs?

The People's Reaction

One Day it Will Come to Pass

Copulation Round

The Corday Waltz

Fifteen Glorious Years

Song and Mime of Corday's Arrival in Paris

Those Fat Monkeys

I've been looking all over for them and the internet is letting me down! If anyone's performed in Marat/Sade (or 'The Persecution and Assassination of Jean-Paul Marat as Performed by the Inmates of the Asylum of Charenton Under the Direction of the Marquis de Sade') or or seen the production or has the sheet music, please tell me!

Oh yeah, today's a good day.

Yesterday

Yesterday was an emotional one. I can't believe I'm writing about it, but I feel that it would help. I woke up yesterday and realized that my friends are all seniors. Why is this a problem? They are graduating. They're done with school. I have one or two friends my age, but if I belonged to any social group, it would be my seniors. I didn't realize how much it would hurt until I reached the lunchroom and realized that I had-literally-no one to sit with. Like it was back to square one. So I ate outside and read Jane Eyre. That is the WRONG book to read when you're sad! I'm ashamed to say that I did cry.

Their prom comes soon, and I'll be there to take pictures, assure them of their beauty, give their dates a talk...then what? And once they graduate, they'll leave for college. The idea never sounded so terrible. They assure me we'll stay close, but how close can you be when they're hundreds of miles away and preoccupied with their education?

I'm moping, I know. And being antisocial. But that's how I am. You might as well tell a fish to stop swimming and start jogging.

But on to more important things. 'Let other pens dwell on guilt and misery', to use Jane Austen's words. I took a run yesterday to calm myself, and took it upon myself to get lost. I succeeded swimmingly (ha ha), and found myself on a wood chip path in the woods I live nearbye. It was absolutely beautiful. If anyone has lost themself in a small wood where the leaves on the trees reflect the sunlight and the ground soaks shade, they know that the sound of your breath and your feet pounding the ground is one of the most comforting sounds imaginable. I had a terrible cramp in my neck (don't ask me how, but I always get cramps in my neck when I run) and my foot started tensing up, but I couldn't stop. Just to hear the sound of my breathing was wonderful. Relief in moderate pain is, for want of a better word, good.

'The Big Bang Theory' Quotes

I regularly watch a fantastic show called, "The Big Bang Theory" (there are some clips at the bottom of the page) and I wish to share some of the brilliance.

You have about as much chance of going out with Penny as the Hubble Telescope has of finding that at the center of each black hole there's a little man with a flashlight trying to find the circuit breaker.
-Sheldon

I just know that moving all day can be stressful and I just thought that good neighbors and some Indian food might be just what you need... plus, curry is a natural laxative and I don't need to tell you that a clean colon is one less thing to worry about.
-Leonard

Oh, well, this would be one of those circumstances that people unfamiliar with the law of large numbers would call a coincidence.
-Sheldon

[discussing Sheldon's work] At least I didn't have to invent 26 dimensions to get the math to work.
-Leonard
I didn't invent them. They're there.
-Sheldon
Yeah? In what universe?
-Leonard
In all of them, that's the point!
-Sheldon

Oh, Raj was just comparing Sheldon to a hygiene product used by women who are not feeling fresh on a summer's eve.
-Howard
And the bag it came in.
-Penny

This car weighs, let's say, 4,000 pounds. Now add 140 for me, 120 for you...
-Sheldon
120?!?
-Penny
Oh, I'm sorry. Did I insult you? Is your body mass somehow tied into your self worth?
-Sheldon

You know what's interesting about caves, Leonard?
-Sheldon
What?
-Leonard
Nothing.
-Sheldon

Now, you listen here. I have being telling you since you were four years old, it's okay to be smarter than everybody but you can't go around pointing it out.
-Mary
Why not?
-Sheldon
Because people don't like it. You don't remember all the ass kickings you got from the neighbor kids. Now lets get cracking. Shower, shirt, shoes and let's shove off.(Mary leaves the room)
-Mary
There wouldn't have been any ass kickings if that stupid death ray had worked.
-Sheldon

This is the best cobbler ever!
-Penny
You know what the secret ingredient is?
-Mrs. Cooper
Love?
-Penny
Lard.
-Mrs. Cooper

Leonard: We need to widen our circle.
Sheldon: I have a very wide circle. I have 212 friends on myspace.
Leonard: Yes, and you’ve never met one of them.
Sheldon: That’s the beauty of it.

Penny: I’m a Sagittarius, which probably tells you way more than you need to know.
Sheldon: Yes, it tells us that you participate in the mass cultural delusion that the sun’s apparent position relative to arbitrarily defined constellations at the time of your birth somehow affects your personality.
Penny: (puzzled) Participate in the what?

I’ve spent the past three-and-a-half years staring at greaseboards full of equations; before that, I spent four years working on my thesis; before that, I was in college; and before that, I was in the fifth grade.
-Sheldon

Sheldon: Leonard! Leonard!
Leonard: What, what’s the matter?
Sheldon: My equations! Someone’s tampered with my equations!
Leonard: Are you sure?
Sheldon: Of course I’m sure. Look at the beta function of quantum chromodynamics–the sign’s been changed!
Leonard: Yeah…but doesn’t that fix the problem you’ve been having?
Sheldon: Are you insane? Are you out of your mind? Are you–hey, look, that fixes the problem I’ve been having!

(Penny asking if she can spend the night on Sheldon and Leonard's couch)

Leonard: Are you suggesting that if we let Penny stay, we might succumb to cannibalism?Sheldon: No one ever thinks it’ll happen until it does.
Leonard: Penny, if you promise not to chew the flesh off our bones while we sleep, you can stay.
Penny: What?

Leonard: What are you doing?
Sheldon: Every Saturday since we’ve lived in this apartment, I have awakened at 6:15, poured myself a bowl of cereal, added a quarter-cup of 2% milk, sat on this end of this couch, turned on BBC America, and watched Doctor Who.
Leonard: Penny’s still sleeping.
Sheldon: Every Saturday since we’ve lived in this apartment…
Leonard: You have a TV in your room, why don’t you just have breakfast in bed?
Sheldon: Because I am neither an invalid nor a woman celebrating Mother’s Day.

(Leonard as to he and Penny's future)

Leonard: Our kids will be smart and beautiful.
Sheldon: Not to mention imaginary

(later)

Leonard: I'm a male, and she's a female.
Sheldon: But not of the same species.

How can she take your order when you're too neurotic to talk to her?
-Howard

That boy has been trouble since the day he fell out of me at K-Mart.
-Sheldon's mother

Leonard: A Homo habilis discovering his opposable thumbs says what ...
Kurt: What?
Leonard & Sheldon laugh

Now I fixed chicken. I hope that's not one of those animals you people think is magic.
-Sheldon's mother to Raj

Penny: Hey, if you guys need a fourth, I'll play.
Leonard: Great idea!
Sheldon: Uh, no. The wheel was a great idea. Relativity was a great idea. This is a notion, and a rather sucky one at that.
Penny: Why?!
Sheldon: Why? Oho, Penny, Penny, Penny.
Penny: Oho, what, what, what?
Sheldon: (as Penny picks up the controller) This is a complex battle simulation with a steep learning curve. There are a myriad of weapons, vehicles, and strategies to master, and not to mention an extremely intricate back story.
Penny: (explosion from the TV) Oh, cool! Whose head did I just blow off?
Sheldon: Mine.

I don't know how, but she is cheating! Nobody can be that attractive and this good at a videogame.
-Sheldon (about Penny)

You know, Penny, we make such a good team, maybe we could enter a couple of Halo tournaments sometime.
-Leonard
Or we could just have a life.
-Penny

Penny: (barges into apartment) Hey, guys! My friends and I got tired of dancing so we came over to have sex with you.
(The guys continue playing Halo)
Penny: Told ya.(Penny and her friends leave)
Sheldon: Why did you hit pause?
Leonard: I thought I heard something.
Raj: What?
Leonard: No, never mind.

If you don't like this Christy, why are you letting her stay?
-Leonard
Well, she was engaged to my cousin while she was sleeping with my brother, so she's kind of family.
-Penny

There's my Little Engine that Could.
-Christy
(Howard and Christy make out)
Well, there's one beloved children's book I'll never read again.
-Sheldon

Penny: Wait, Sheldon come back. You forgot something.
Sheldon: What?
Penny: This plasma grenade.(Explosion sound on the tv)
Penny: Ha. Look it's raining you.
Sheldon: You laugh now, but wait till you need tech support.

Leonard: I didn't like the look of the guy she was with.
Howard: Because he look better than you?
Leonard: Yeah. He was kind of dreamy
Sheldon: At least now you can retrieve the black box from the twisted smoldering wreckage that was once your fantasy of dating her and analyze the data so that you don't crash into geek mountain again.

So, how did it go with Leslie?
-Sheldon
We tried kissing but the earth didn't move. I mean any more than the 383 miles it was gonna move anyway.
-Leonard

I'm a perfectly nice guy! There's no reason we couldn't go to the restaurant and have a lovely dinner. Maybe we could go for a walk afterwards, talk about things we have in common: You love pottery? I love pottery! There's a pause-we both know what's happening-I lean in and we kiss; it's a little tentative at first, but then I realize she's kissing me back and she's biting my lower lip, you know? She wants me! This thing is going the distance, we're going to have sex! Oh, God, oh my GOD!
-Leonard
[Leonard descends into a panic attack]
Is the sex starting now?
-Sheldon

Love is not a sprint, it's a marathon. A relentless pursuit that only ends when she falls into your arms. Or hits you with the pepper spray...
-Howard

Howard: Sheldon, if you were a robot, and I knew and you didn't, would you want me to tell you? Sheldon: That depends. When I learn that I'm a robot, will I be able to handle it?
Howard: Maybe, although the history of science fiction is not on your side.
Sheldon: Uh, let me ask you this: when I learn that I'm a robot, will I be bound by Asimov's Three Laws of Robotics?
Raj: You might be bound by them right now.
Howard: That's true, have you ever harmed a human being, or through inaction, allowed a human being to come to harm?
Sheldon: Of course not.
Raj: Have you ever harmed yourself or let yourself to be harmed except in cases where a human being would've been endangered?
Sheldon: Well, no.
Howard: I smell robot.
(Leonard walks in)
Leonard: What's going on around here?
Sheldon: The internet's been down for half an hour.
Raj: Also, Sheldon might be a robot.

Tonight I spice my meat with goblin blood!
-Raj

There is no more Sheldon, I am the Sword Master!
-Sheldon

Howard: There are pitfalls, trust me, I know. When it comes to sexual harassment law I'm bit of a self taught expert.
Leonard: Look Howard if I were to ask Leslie Winkle out it would just be for dinner. I'm not gonna walk into the lab, ask her to strip naked and dance for me.
Howard: Oh, then you're probably OK.

(Leonard hits his head under the table at the restaurant)
Penny: Are you OK ?
Leonard: Yeah, I'm OK... Did you spill ketchup ?
Penny: No.
Leonard: I'm not OK!


Sheldon: So? How was your date?
Leonard: Awesome!
Sheldon: Score one for liquor and poor judgment.


There are many more, but as of now, I can't find any.

Oh Yeah

By the way, every time I tried to post something for the past few weeks, it kept saying "Error-35xll4bt" or something to that effect. But I'm back! Most of the stuff I was going to post was on literature, so I'm sure it will end up on here eventually!

Thoughts on Happiness

Yesterday, I asked a friend if he was happy. Without hesitation, he replied no. I didn't know what to say. I wasn't sure why. It made me think about whether or not I was truly happy. I've realized that I'm not. But I am something else. I'm joyful. There's a difference. Happiness is a moderate emotion-it has it's limits. Happiness can be attained, and lost. Happiness borders contentment, and I am not content.

But I am joyful. I have been joyful for a long time. I feel joy in life-in beauty, in family, in friendship-because life supplies this. I am not yet content, but I doubt I will be until I reach Heaven. Though a welcoming thought, I don't want to go just yet. There are still things in my life with which I am not satisfied. But would it really be life if I was content? I doubt it.

Why am I joyful? I'm not entirely sure, but I wouldn't trade it for happiness-ever!

A Dog's "Artistic" Death

I am so disgusted right now, I can't even begin to discribe. I just read that a so called "artist", Guillermo Vargas Habacuc, decided that it was artistic to take a dog off the streets, tie it to an art studio wall, and have everyone watch it die. I don't feel good. Seriously. I might throw up.

To call this art is barbaric and disgusting and cruel. It just sat there and starved to death. And what makes me all the more angry is that the Visual Arts Biennial of Central America invited him to do the same at their Biennial of 2008!

Sign this petition to stop this from happening again. They should do the same to the artist...or feed him to a dog!

http://www.petitiononline.com/ea6gk/petition.html

I'm Annoyed

Why did our school block facebook? Why? WHY!!! Schoolwork is too tedious to focus on for long!

Angst

I was reading over some poems I had to write in free verse for my advanced english class, and I realized how much they sucked. They're full of angst. Here's one.

DEAREST FRIDA

Violent red; murky brown; sooty black; pallet of her choice:
The world is dark, for dearest Frida,
And life is the depth of regret, hatred, sorrow--
The crushing oblivion--she feels in her heart.

Bound by myriads of excruciating pain, numbness, rage, dearest Frida begins to paint
A world of lost dreams, nightmares. Daymares.
Her life spins in a haze of death.
A haze of disillusion.

Crashes, dying child, pain severs the connection with reality
A reality too harsh for dearest Frida.
The suffering unceasing, falling, smashing
As her child wanders away. Forever gone.

Youth, a concept lost forever in the violent accident of a mere hour, nay, minute;
Love, a time felt trick on the soul of dearest Frida
Who yearns, but never reaches, knowing there is no use
Poor, dearest Frida.


If I didn't know me, I'd say I was depressed and on something. Ha ha, I'm neither!

Painful

I feel as though something in me has been drowning for the longest time, and I realize that it's confidence. Not the confidence they talk about in self-help books, but confidence in others; confidence in those I care about. Whenever I look around me, I see things and people falling apart. More than that, though-they're becoming hollow.
I know, that makes no sense. But nothing means as much as it did to me before. My parents divorced at the end of march, and my father told me he was engaged less than a week later. I'll be attending his wedding in a few weeks.
One of my best friends is no longer talking to me, and I have absolutely no idea why. He's decided that I no longer fit into his life, and for this, I feel more angry than I should.
Another good friend has drifted from the person she once was, and I can't respect her in the same way I once did.
Another one of my friends is yearning for someone to love her the way love has always been portrayed for her, and I'm afraid that such a love doesn't exist. I don't know how to tell her, so all I can do is watch and wait and continue trying to persuade her to be more careful with her heart.
Another one of my friends is settling for someone who does not deserve her, and she won't listen to me. I'd let it be, but he's hurt her before.
Another one of my friends found out that she has cysts, and consequentially may not be able to have children, but we're still waiting and praying.
My friend's father is dying, and I think that this is what hurts me the most. He hurts so much, and all I can do is sit around aimlessly and watch, give a few hugs, etc. I want to help so much, but I feel useless. There should be a way to comfort him.

I'm complaining so much, but I'm too upset right now to care. maybe I shouldn't post this.

Too late.

Hmph

I wonder what prought Sophocles to put "Oedipus Rex" to pen. I'd rather he didn't. The entire story had me upset with him for being so ignorant when the facts were in front of him. Pride is nothing to his ignorance. True, pride blinds him, but it is more than that. He doesn't want to believe that he killed his father and married his mother, as I doubt that incest was looked highly upon. The entire story is disgusting.

And I appreciate the part that says "blood splattered from his ruined sockets like hail."

Nice.

Why are things so complicated?

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

Amber Fullmer: A Life Crowded With Incidents To No Satisfactory Ending

I think it's catchy.

Oz: Read This!

I am writing this because I care about you and I want you to be happy. I know right now you are hurting and you want to forget about the feelings you had. But you can't shut yourself up in a hole. You are an extremely interesting and deep person.

You must understand that Rachel didn't mean to hurt you. That doesn't stop it from hurting. I know that I have little understanding of your situation, and for that I am sorry. If I am behaving ignorantly, I apologize. But I don't want you hurting.

I am sorry, but you are too good of a person to do something you regret. You say that you have lost everything, but it is still your choice. You can decide how you are going to emotionally handle this. I hope you will choose to forgive Rachel. I know it would take a long time, and a lot of strength on your part (and truthfully, some whiskey-filled evenings), but I think you could do it. I care about you and I don't want you hurting.

Simply Oscar Wilde Quotes

SOME ARE MORE FAMOUS THAN OTHERS, BUT ALL ARE WORTH THE TIME. THERE ARE QUITE A LOT, BUT I COULDN'T CHOOSE ONLY A COUPLE; THEY ALL MAKE ME SO CONTENT WITH WIT.


A cynic is a man who knows the price of everything but the value of nothing.

A little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it is absolutely fatal.

A man can be happy with any woman, as long as he does not love her.

A man can't be too careful in the choice of his enemies.

A man who does not think for himself does not think at all.
Ah, well, then I suppose I shall have to die beyond my means.

A true friend stabs you in the front.

A thing is not necessarily true because a man dies for it.

A man's face is his autobiography. A woman's face is her work of fiction.

All art is quite useless.

All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling.

All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That's his.

Always forgive your enemies - nothing annoys them so much.

An idea that is not dangerous is unworthy of being called an idea at all.

Bigamy is having one wife too many. Monogamy is the same.

By giving us the opinions of the uneducated, journalism keeps us in touch with the ignorance of the community.

Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative.

Deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance.

Education is an admirable thing, but it is well to remember from time to time that nothing that is worth knowing can be taught.

Everything popular is wrong.

Experience is simply the name we give our mistakes.

Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months.

I always pass on good advice. It is the only thing to do with it. It is never of any use to oneself.

I am so clever that sometimes I don't understand a single word of what I am saying.

I am the only person in the world I should like to know thoroughly.

I can resist everything except temptation.

I have nothing to declare except my genuis.

I have the simplest tastes. I am always satisfied with the best.

I like persons better than principles, and I like persons with no principles better than anything else in the world.

I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read in the train.

I put all my genius into my life; I put only my talent into my works.

I regard the theatre as the greatest of all art forms, the most immediate way in which a human being can share with another the sense of what it is to be a human being.

I see when men love women. They give them but a little of their lives. But women when they love give everything.

I sometimes think that God in creating man somewhat overestimated his ability.

I suppose society is wonderfully delightful. To be in it is merely a bore. But to be out of it is simply a tragedy.

In all matters of opinion, our adversaries are insane.

If you pretend to be good, the world takes you very seriously. If you pretend to be bad, it doesn't. Such is the astounding stupidity of optimism.

It is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious.

It is better to be beautiful than to be good. But... it is better to be good than to be ugly.

Laughter is not at all a bad beginning for a friendship, and it is far the best ending for one.

Man can believe the impossible, but man can never believe the improbable.

No man is rich enough to buy back his past.

No woman should ever be quite accurate about her age. It looks so calculating.

Nothing is so aggravating than calmness.

Now that the House of Commons is trying to become useful, it does a great deal of harm.

Quotation is a serviceable substitute for wit.

One should always be in love. That is the reason one should never marry.

Ridicule is the tribute paid to the genius by the mediocrities.

Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go.

The books that the world calls immoral are books that show the world its own shame.

The difference between literature and journalism is that journalism is unreadable and literature is not read.

The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily. That is what fiction means.

The public is wonderfully tolerant. It forgives everything except genius.

The pure and simple truth is rarely pure and never simple.

The world is a stage, but the play is badly cast.

There is nothing so difficult to marry as a large nose.

There is only one thing in life worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.

To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance.

Whenever people agree with me I always feel I must be wrong.

Women are made to be loved, not understood.


I WISH I COULD BE WITTY, BUT I'M CONTENT WITH RELYING ON THE WIT OF OTHERS. GO WILDE!

My Favorite Inspirational, Ironic and Sarcastic Quotes

To win without risk is to triumph without glory.
- Pierre Corneille

The hero is no braver than the ordinary man, but he is brave five minutes longer
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

It is our choices...that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.
- J. K. Rowling

We have no simple problems or easy decisions after kindergarten.
- John W. Turk

A wise man makes his own decisions; an ignorant man follows the public opinion.
- Chinese Proverb

It's not hard to make decisions when you know what your values are.
- Roy Disney

Reader, suppose you were an idiot. And suppose you were a member of Congress. But I repeat myself.
-Mark Twain

I'd rather be right than President.
- Henry Clay

Moral cowardice that keeps us from speaking our minds is as dangerous to this country as irresponsible talk. The right way is not always the popular and easy way. Standing for right when it is unpopular is a true test of moral character.
- Margaret Chase Smith

Always do right - this will gratify some and astonish the rest.
- Mark Twain

The time is always right to do what is right.
- Martin Luther King Jr.

I could care less about your dog, and I hope your cat dies tomorrow.
-me to my blabbering friend

We're Getting To The Ones I Enjoy Now:

Sometimes I need what only you can provide: your absence.
- Ashleigh Brilliant

I feel so miserable without you, it's almost like having you here.
- Stephen Bishop

I never forget a face, but in your case I'll be glad to make an exception.
-Groucho Marx

The United States is a nation of laws: badly written and randomly enforced.
- Frank Zappa

The trouble with her is that she lacks the power of conversation but not the power of speech.
- George Bernard Shaw

He has no enemies, but is intensely disliked by his friends.
-Oscar Wilde

He was happily married - but his wife wasn't.
- Victor Borge

I didn't attend the funeral, but I sent a nice letter saying I approved of it.
-Mark Twain

I have never killed a man, but I have read many obituaries with great pleasure.
- Clarence Darrow

If you ever become a mother, can I have one of the puppies?
- Charles Pierce

You have delighted us long enough.
- Jane Austen

Familiarity breeds contempt -- and children.
-Mark Twain

He has never been known to use a word that might send a reader to the dictionary.
- William Faulkner (about Ernest Hemingway)
Poor Faulkner. Does he really think big emotions come from big words?
- Ernest Hemingway (about William Faulkner)

He is a self-made man and worships his creator.
- Irvin S. Cobb

He has Van Gogh's ear for music.
- Billy Wilder

He loves nature in spite of what it did to him.
- Forrest Tucker

Calamities are of two kinds: misfortunes to ourselves, and good fortune to others.
- Ambrose Bierce

Man is the only animal that can remain on friendly terms with the victems he intends to eat until he eats them.
- Samuel Butler

When people are free to do as they please, they usually imitate each other.
- Eric Hoffer
(very true of modern society)

A good listener is usually thinking about something else.
- Kin Hubbard

Every time I look at you I get a fierce desire to be lonesome.
- Oscar Levant

The trouble with a kitten is that it eventually beomes a cat.
- Ogden Nash
(I have the same problem)

FEEL FREE TO ADD SOME OTHER NEAT QUOTES IN THE COMMENTS AREA...I'M IN NEED OF INSPIRATION!